“Don’t worry, I’ll manage.” Anthony was confident he could move this trunk. If little Mary could do it then it should be no trouble for him to do it.
“No really, babe.” Mary was uncharacteristically almost serious for a change. “If you drop that box there could be a slight possibility that it might… explode.”
“Huh?” Anthony presumed that Mary was only concerned that he might hurt himself lifting the trunk. She was actually more concerned that he might blow himself apart if he dropped it. This simple task had become a little disturbing.
“Yep, so do take care!” Mary spoke with an enthusiastic giggle; all signs of seriousness now gone again. “See you soon, little brother.” Mary gave Anthony a playful poke on the nose and then headed back outside to join his mother.
As the door to the church closed, Anthony stood silently in the dim light. Eventually, he turned to face the passageway leading to the room at the back of the church where Mary’s mystery trunk was waiting. Anthony did not want to look like a lily-livered, little boy in Mary’s eyes, or his own. His apprehensions could not be denied, yet he was still curious. What was Mary keeping in that back room?
“Oh I wish it was always this windy!” Mary hollered as she strolled down the street in route to the bodies of the men she had recently massacred. Serena was not far behind her. Unlike Mary, Serena was trying to maintain some semblance of stealth. There was no telling how far the wind could carry their voices, especially Mary’s high tone.
“Should we be worried that somebody might hear us?” It was Serena’s kind way of asking Mary to quiet down.
“Hah! That a nice way of telling me to shut up?”
“No, I just…” Serena stumbled for a retort. “You said there’re always more of those men around, somewhere.”
“And there will be,” Mary gleefully foreshadowed. “But there ain’t any here now. I have a seventh sense for this kind of thing.”
I wonder what she uses the sixth one for. Serena thought. Odd girl doesn’t know one sense from the other.
“Reading minds.” Mary stated.
“What?” Serena asked.
“You were wondering about the sixth sense, weren’t you?” Mary spoke as she came to a halt in the middle of the road.
“Clever.” Serena replied as she stopped in front of Mary. She was aware that the girl couldn’t actually read people’s minds, yet Mary did seem adept at reading people in other ways.
“I do try!” Mary cheered. She and Serena continued on together towards their destination. “Don’t be shy, Mama Bear. If I’m doing somethin’ that’s botherin’ you, just say so. I don’t get offended easily… I don’t really get offended at all actually.”
“That’s good to know. I’m sorry if I come off as rude or withdrawn, I just…” Serena wasn’t sure if her apology was altogether sincere. It had been a long time since she had spoken to anyone other than her son. The actual act of conversing with a potential friend had become alien to her. “I just wasn’t sure it’d ever really happen – meeting somebody that is. Somebody who wasn’t out to kill me… somebody decent.” Serena let a laugh slip; it startled her and Mary both. “When I imagined that person, I’m sorry, but you were not what came to mind.”
“Well, don’t I feel special.” Mary mocked as she and Serena approached Serena’s vehicle still sitting in the motel parking lot.
“I’m sorry, Mary…” Serena handed her rifle to Mary and then steadied herself on the trunk of her car as her laughter overtook her. She could not quell her laughing. It was somewhat amusing that this tiny, tattooed girl who named her weapons and killed wicked men out of simple boredom was her only friend in the world, but Serena’s laughter was coming from some place deeper. Being so emotionally numb for so long, her body had finally found a release, and it had a lot to let go of.
Mary was aware of this. She patted and stroked Serena’s back as Serena buried her face into her own arms in a fit of cathartic hilarity. “At least I’m not the only one who’s nuts around here anymore.” Mary added. Her remark did little to alleviate Serena’s laughter, which was soon joined by intermittent coughs.
The dead men lay unperturbed in the grimy parking lot with congealed blood puddles plastered to the concrete beneath them. Mary left Serena alone and headed over to the body of the larger, dead man whose skull she had obliterated earlier that morning. She kicked his machete out into the street and then stared at what remained of his face and pondered whether or not he was more hideous before or after her butchery. It was too tough to decide, so Mary moved on to relocating his corpse to a more discrete location. She laid down the rifle and grabbed the man by the hands and began pulling him towards the motel rooms. He was heavy, but Serena—her laughing now abated—was soon there to help Mary with her macabre tasks. The dead man oozed disgust as the two women moved his body; his large frame, however, mopped up most of the gore as they pulled him towards their destination. As they approached one of the motel’s rooms, Mary relinquished her grip on the dead man’s hand and turned to the door. With one fierce side kick she broke open the door and destroyed a hefty section of the door frame in the process. Again, the little women’s strength impressed Serena.
The dead man was dragged inside and left on the floor to rot behind one of two twin beds occupying the room. His equally deceased and much lighter partner soon took a spot behind the other bed. With their disturbing task finished, Serena picked up the rifle and returned to her vehicle. She opened her trunk and gave Mary full reign to scrounge through her and her son’s meager collection of clothing to find anything suitable. Mary was not picky and she soon fished out a yellow, hooded sweatshirt with the green letters B and U on the front. “This okay?” Mary asked, holding the shirt out towards Serena. “I do adore the color yellow!”
“It’s yours.” Serena had forgotten she even had that shirt. It was a distant reminder of her old alma mater; days long gone and mostly forgotten. Before Serena had time to fully meander with her memories, a malicious outburst of coughing brought her back to her contemporary state of affairs.
Mary glanced back to Serena. “You all right back there?”
“Yes,” Serena replied; her coughing gone as quickly as it came. “Damn wind is choking me up.”
Mary only nodded in retort. She placed the yellow hoodie on the edge of the car and then pulled her own blood-soaked shirt up over her head. Much like the rest of her body, Mary’s back was covered with tattoos… with a tattoo actually. From behind, Serena spied the artwork etched upon her strange, new friend. The scene playing out upon Mary’s skin was of a snake in a tree with a red piece of fruit in its mouth. The serpent was presenting that piece of fruit to a beautiful, bronze, naked woman. It was soon partially covered as Mary’s black hair was freed from the shirt above her head and fell into place down her back.
“Interesting artwork.” Serena spoke as Mary put on the yellow sweater.
“My lady Eve?” Mary stretched her arms around in the sweater. The shirt was a little big, but still comfortable. “Took about a week to finish that thing – six hours a day. Turned out pretty sweet though… I like it!”
“It’s well done.” Serena could not deny that, though she wasn’t sure if the tattoo was worth the time, the pain, and the potential costs. “That’s the Garden of Eden, right? Why’d you choose that?”
“To honor Eve,” Mary answered, almost zealously. “Very misjudged women! She gave up an eternity in paradise so the world could have a conscience; so that we, humankind, would all have the ability and freewill to make our own choices.”
That turned out real well, didn’t it? Serena thought. “That’s one way to look at it.” Serena replied.
“Uh oh,” mocked Mary. “I sense a good, many, friendly philosophical debates in our future together, Mama Bear.”
“We find a safe place, we’ll have as many as you like.”
The hooded sweatshirt was enough for Mary; she was content with her indelicate shorts for the time being, as nothin
g in Serena’s trunk took to her liking where her lower half was concerned. The two women got into the car and Serena drove them back to Mary’s church. The plan was set into motion: they would collect Anthony along with any belongings and necessities within the church and be on their way westward. There were no reasons to stay here any longer. Their time back at the church would not be long, but Serena shut off her vehicle anyway. Every bit of fuel could matter later on. Anthony was waiting at the door with all of their provisions setting at his feet, including Amy, Isabeau, and Mary’s explosive trunk.
“Are we leaving?” Anthony asked as Mary and his mother approached.
“We’re leaving.” His mother answered with an apprehensive smile. Although she still had her anxieties about whatever might lay ahead, Anthony could sense some semblance of resolve emanating from his mother. She looked less weary than usual, and less frightened. He attributed that mostly to Mary. The odd girl was good for morale in her own unique way.
“Okay,” Anthony replied. “I’m ready when you guys are.”
“All right, let’s ditch this bitch!” Mary spoke as she picked up her sleeping bags filled with her various loots and held them out to Serena and Anthony. “We’ll hit the open road runnin’ and ride this white-lined nightmare straight into Hell! You guys ever seen The Road Warrior movie?”
“No.” Serena simpered as she took both bags from Mary and carried them down to her car.
“For shame!” Mary protested. She then turned to Anthony, who was now holding her mystery trunk in his arms.
“So, what’s in this thing?” Anthony asked.
“What’s in this thing?” Mary repeated as she snatched the trunk from Anthony’s arms. “Rebecca’s in this thing.” Mary left Anthony standing in confusion and joined Serena down by the car where she carefully placed her box of Rebecca into the vehicle’s trunk.
“From anybody else that would’ve sounded strange.” Anthony informed nobody in particular. He gathered up what remained to be taken and joined Mary and his mother. A moment later they were all off on their quest into the west.
Serena drove and Mary rode passenger with the rifle perched in the floor between her legs. Anthony took his place in the backseat. The car was quiet as they left the town behind, but Mary soon began to strike up conversation. She went about telling Serena and Anthony the tale of the Mad Max films: their intricacies, their allegories, and their brutalities. Mary was very fond of the films; Serena, however, did not care to hear much more, especially out on the open road.
“Where’d you come from, Mary?” Serena asked as soon as an opportunity presented itself.
“From the very high city in the sky.” Mary responded. “Denver.”
“You live there your whole life?” Serena further inquired.
“In a way.” Mary answered. “I wandered into other places, but never stayed for too long.”
“Why’s that?” Serena asked, though she surmised that Mary’s fickle temperament had something to do with it.
“I don’t know, I get these ideas, big ideas of grandeur and adventure, but they never go the way I hope. I get bored, I get depressed, and then I go back home.”
Anthony had a notion to ask Mary if she had a family to return home to, but he hesitated. Despite Mary’s strength of body and character, the question could still be painful. Sometimes it hurt when Anthony recalled memories of his own family: the death of his father during the invasion and the murders of his cousins, aunts, and uncles in its aftermath. The memories made him sad and they made him angry. Nevertheless, Anthony also found a source of power in them; be it a hope for this elusive place of peace that his mother was determined to find, or be it a burning hatred that persistently simmered within him wanting for any form of revenge.
Serena, too, was going to inquire about this home that Mary referred to, but she was having the same apprehensions as her son. She and Anthony’s father had never married and had been apart for many years. His death affected her, but not as greatly as it did her son. The death of her friends and family hurt more; but Serena was more accustom to death than Anthony was. She had to be for them to survive.
Sensing the solemn turn in tone and perceiving the lack of any follow up questions, Mary deduced what was on mother and son’s minds. “No family for me,” she announced. “Father bailed before I was born and my mother died when I was four – killed in a crack house or something. I think I was six when I went to live with my uncle and my aunt… poor, old bitch. She did her best I guess, but by the time I hit puberty she’d had enough of me, too.”
“That’s… that sounds rough.” Serena spoke uncertainly. Mary’s brief summarization of her youth did not sound very enjoyable; yet that was difficult to discern from the gleeful way in which she spoke. “Sorry.” Serena added.
“I survived, and hey, I turned out mostly okay, did I not?” Mary winked the question in Anthony’s direction.
“Yeah, you did.” He answered. “That’s pretty remarkable. You were probably younger than I am now when you were on your own. I wouldn’t have lasted a week… don’t know how you did it.”
“Joined a cult.” Mary stated.
“Oh,” Anthony chuckled, but his amusement was quickly quelled by concern. “For real?” He dared to ask a moment later.
“Well, no, I didn’t so much join one… I kinda started one really.”
“You started your own cult.” Serena was skeptical, or at least she thought she was.
“I was young and bored; not much else to do.”
“You didn’t go to school?” Anthony asked. Dumb question, he silently scolded himself.
“I went to kindergarten for about a week. Playtime was a very enlightening experience for me. Unfortunately, my version of Mother May I? didn’t go over too well with my teachers. And Huckle Buckle Beanstalk.” Mary began to laugh. “I wasn’t ever returnin’ to a schoolyard after that. You don’t even wanna know where I hid Huckle Buckle’s little beansprout.”
“What? Well, no…” Serena confirmed, slightly terrified.
“My aunt homeschooled me some, but meh, that was too lame.” Mary carried on. “I’m not stupid or anything, don’t get me wrong, I just like to learn things my own way. People tellin’ me what to do has never gone well – for me or them.”
“Heh, we’ll be sure to remember that.” Anthony jested with a portion of truth.
“Oh, fear not, little brother, I’m harmless!” Mary reached behind her seat and tickled Anthony under his chin. “A bit motley maybe, but still harmless.”
“I’ve seen how strong you are,” Anthony boasted. “I’m glad you’re one of the good guys.”
“More stupid than strength,” confessed Mary. “But your praise is appreciated.” One of the good guys? Mary pondered. That really depends on who you ask. She looked outside the passenger window. This place was very familiar to her; her joyful disposition sobered slightly as she realized what was waiting up ahead. Mary had seen it many times, but it still disturbed her. She wondered how Serena and Anthony would react.
“So, did your cult have a name?” Anthony asked.
“Huh? Oh, yeah: Sweet Marie.” Mary answered. “Or Mary’s Cult… I preferred that, personally.”
“And what was your cult’s purpose?” Serena dared to ask. “What did you do?”
“A whole lot of nothin’,” Mary answered with a yawn. “Wasn’t as exciting as I thought it would be. An epic waste of time, but hey, wasted time is time well wasted.”
“What did you do for money?” Serena asked before she realized what she was asking. “Not that that’s any of my business.” Serena’s attempt to take back her question was unsuccessful.
Mary was happy to respond. “I did have a few legitimate jobs. I was a tattoo artist, for one, sort of. I only drew the designs; I never had the patience to do the actual tattooing. And I was also a model, believe it or not.”
“I believe it.” Anthony spoke, and then flushed.
“Well, an alternative model,” M
ary amended. “Biker blogs, tattoo sites; shit like that.”
“Sounds interesting.” Serena replied, happy that Mary’s means of income were almost semi-normal. Yet the devious smirk the girl was giving her now was a little unsettling.
“Thievery, robbery, prostitution?” Mary spoke with too much delight. “Expecting something more along those lines, Mama Bear?”
“No, Mary,” Serena replied. She wasn’t sure if she believed herself or not.
“Why not? I did those things, too. Girl’s gotta pay her way somehow. Might as well fuck the proprietors; save a little money… buy more ditch weed and Chocodiles!”
“Like I said, that’s none of my business.”
“It is your business actually; I’m here with you, am I not? Anything either of you want to know, just ask. I’ll be happy to tell it!”
“You’re honesty is appreciated,” Serena amicably spoke. “But it’s okay to have some secrets.”
“Yeah, I was never that good at keepin’ secrets for very long.” Mary turned her smirk back to Anthony.
“Keeping them probably does more harm than good.” He added.
“Words well-spoken, little brother!” Mary turned back to her window. The hills, the valleys, the sagebrush and dust all passed by swiftly as she stared into the dry landscape. It’s getting closer, she reminded herself, though she did not need any reminding. Maybe this time will be the last time I ever have to see that thing again. Mary remained hopefully forlorn. She was not frightened of the thing which lay ahead, yet it still filled her with revulsion. It’s dead now, somebody killed it and it can’t kill anymore, but how many died before it died? Too many to count.
“Mary Murder…” Serena spoke softly.
“Hmm?” Mary stirred.
“Your name – Mary Murder.” Serena’s realization brought a smile to her face and an odd bit of relief to her mind. “You were a Murder Girl.”
“Yes, I was.” Mary replied.
“What’s a Murder Girl?” Anthony asked.
In the Aftermath: Burning of the Dawn Page 30
